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Page 139
execution was arranged. Owain came forward carrying Ian's discarded shield. He proffered it to his master, who looked at it a moment in amazement before he slid it automatically over his shoulder. Alinor "tchk'd" with irritation but said nothing. Perhaps the bandaging would be sufficient to keep Ian's back from being rubbed raw again. Owain bent and picked up the morningstar, which was bloodied and clotted with pieces of flesh right up to the handgrip.
"Where is Geoffrey?" Ian asked sharply.
Owain jerked his head toward the far edge of the clearing. "Sick," he said briefly, and then swallowed convulsively himself.
Ian shrugged. "Tell him to swallow his gorge and come here." His eyes fell on the morningstar, which swung from Owain's hand. A faint frown passed over his face. "See if you can clean that a little. It will drive my horse mad."
For some reason Ian could not understand, Owain swallowed hard again. "Yes, lord," he remarked feelingly.
"Where is the horse?" Ian asked next with some concern, aware suddenly that everyone was afoot.
"There are four men battling with him back in the woods," Alinor said. "Most of that," she waved toward the mutilated corpses, "is your work, but some of it is the beast's. Any creature that rose up and tried to flee and ran by mistake in his direction he kicked and tore to pulp. Is he safe to ride, Ian?"
"Of course," he replied, rather surprised. "That is his training. He did not touch me. He knows my smell now. He will be quiet as soon as I am in the saddle."
"Then perhaps you should mount him," Alinor suggested, "before we are four men-at-arms the less."
"Let Geoffrey go tell the men to bring the horse," Ian agreed, almost smiling.
Alinor shook her head and took hold of Ian's arm. Seeing the message in her eyes, he gestured to Owain

 
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